when you hold me like you do
by Megan-Lynn
Summary: The first thing she does when she gets home is pour herself a large glass of wine. Early S4.


**when you hold me like you do**

I've been wanting to write fic all season, but surprisingly (LOL) was having trouble finding motivation. I found the first part of this when looking through some of my rough drafts and was hit by sudden inspiration.

This takes place early S4, before 4x03, I think.

* * *

_It was two o'clock in the morning, and she couldn't sleep. She and Sam had the early shift, so she's put as much effort as possible into trying to rest. Closing her eyes, counting sheep, counting her heartbeats, clearing her head of thoughts. Nothing worked, she couldn't figure it out._

_She props herself up after hours of trying and looks at her sleeping boyfriend, frustrated that he was sleeping without trouble. Before she talks herself out of it, she flings her arm over his chest, none too gently. He stirs a little, a mumbled "Wha?" coming out. His eyes don't open as his hands come up to rub the arm she has wrapped around him now._

_She moans into his shoulder, regretting her action, knowing it wasn't fair. But she only gains more of his attention. "Andy?"_

"_I'm sorry. I just can't get to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."_

_He grunts. "Sure." He pulls her closer to him and she puts her leg over his. "Why can't you sleep?" His voice is gruff, and slurring a bit, like he's drifting off again._

"_I don't know," she murmurs. "Could - could you talk to me?"_

"_Seriously?" He sighs. "What about?"_

"_Anything. I like listening to you." He chuckles._

"_Yeah, okay."_

"_Oh, whatever. Tell me about your first day as a rookie."_

_He's silent for a moment before he begins his tale - one that's much more boring then her own first day. She rests her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, enjoying the feel of his voice rumbling. She finally feels herself drifting off by the time Sam starts describing the lunch he had that day, with a thought at the back of her head that he's probably making up half of what he's saying._

* * *

She tosses in her empty bed. Her infrequent bouts of insomnia are just the worst and she was never good at dealing with them.

Sam had helped a bit before but she guesses he wouldn't be thrilled with her turning up at his place.

She sighs and curses him out loud. She had felt so confident the night she left. But then the assignment went on and on and she grew to hate it. Nick was a great companion, but it didn't really make the case easier. She had been so excited the night they came home, even if most of it was adrenaline because of all the events that occurred that day.

And then there was that swift kick to the gut she felt when she saw Sam kissing that woman. She couldn't believe that he had been such a large reason for her desire to come home. A part of her wondered if she had the right to be angry and upset while the other half questioned why he made that plea to her all those months ago if it apparently meant nothing.

She groans when she finally turns to see the time: 6:04am. She's on-shift in just under an hour and a half and didn't get a second of sleep. Awesome. This is her second week back on the job, so hopefully some kind of auto-pilot will kick in. Or, she cringes as she thinks of it, she can get desk duty. Better to potentially fall asleep there then behind the wheel she supposes.

* * *

Surprised she makes it into work in one piece, she rushes to get in uniform so she can get some coffee. She's going to need a lot of it.

And so it works out perfectly that Sam's there. Alone, by some miracle of God. She tries to ignore him while she makes her wake up solution.

"Morning, McNally." His voice, the same as always, makes her flinch anyway.

"Morning, Sam." Her hands had stilled, and after she hears him exhale, she goes back to what she was doing.

When she finishes and turns around, he's still there. Not looking at her or anything, of course. He's sitting down, staring at his cup of whatever he's drinking. She takes the moment to study him as he appears to not notice she's done with her task.

He's thinner then when she left, trimmer. He looks good, she thinks. His detective outfit is definitely working for him. She has the strongest urge to ask him about the change.

She gets lost in her thoughts at that point and is startled when he speaks again. "Sleep well?"

She stares at him a moment, wondering if he's honestly asking or if he somehow knows about her night.

Quietly, "Not as well as I would have liked."

He's frowning when he looks up at her, but Dov pokes his head in the room, reminding them that parade's about to start.

Sam throws his cup away as he gets up and gestures for her to leave ahead of him. She pauses before taking up her coffee and going. He doesn't touch her as she passes him, but he follows closely behind on the way out.

* * *

She's partnered with Gail during parade and is thankful for it because Andy knows the other woman won't ask a lot of questions about her quiet mood.

Three hours later, she realizes it was a mistake not to request desk duty. While she was able to shake some of her drowsiness, she wasn't able to shake some of the moodiness from the lack of sleep. And that unfortunately lead to her getting a bit lippy with a suspect and that suspect punching her in the mouth.

Gail laughs about it on the way back to the barn, but she's failing to see the humour. And as always, since it's her lucky day, Sam walks into the break room as she's icing her jaw.

He sits across from her. "I heard what happened. You alright?" His tone is measured, almost emotionless.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." She pushes her chair back to get up, not feeling up to chit chatting with him when he asks: "You're having trouble sleeping again?"

His tone is more interested then when he asked his first question but she hesitates in answering anyway. It's not like he has a right to know anymore.

"Why do you ask?"

He shrugs. "Would hate to see it interfere with your job. Like today."

She grits her teeth and finally stands up. She manages to get out a "whatever" as she leaves the room. But it's not until she feels his hand on her arm that she realizes he followed her.

"Hey, I'm just concerned, that's -"

"None of your business," she cuts in. His hand drops back to his side as soon as she says it, a blank look coming across his face. He stands there staring at her and she can't stand it.

"Go be concerned about your girlfriend, Sam." She pauses as he gets an annoyed look on his face. She can't stop herself from saying: "And leave me alone." And she leaves him standing there as she walks away, wishing she could go home already. Apparently, a slightly bruised jaw is not enough. If only it had been a 300-pound wrestler and not a 90-pound druggie.

She shakes her head. Clearly it's a bad day if she's wishing for a concussion.

* * *

Looking up at the clock hours later, she sees it's time to get out, finally. She rushes to get dressed, not wanting to linger and run into anyone. Never has she been more grateful for a day off as she is right now.

The first thing she does when she gets home is pour herself a large glass of wine. Probably a mistake, but she doesn't even care. Her first glass doesn't last long. After refilling, she takes her shoes off and moves over to her sofa. Some comfort is needed, and food as she contemplates what she could eat for dinner.

And it's just as she sits that there's a knock at the door. She ignores it the first time, not caring that it's obvious she's home. But she gives in quickly when her visitor knocks again, louder this time. She calls out, asking who's there, as her hand reaches for the door.

"It's me."

She stops when she realizes it's Sam. She doesn't want to open that door, she was just starting to settle down after her day.

"McNally?"

"Yeah, what's up?" She cringes as she talks back through her door.

"Andy, come on." She sighs as she unlocks her door. But she stands in front of him, not inviting him in. She's hoping she can get him to go away soon, she doesn't want to be responsible for what she'll say if she lets him in.

His shoulders slump a little, obviously figuring out this is an uphill battle. It's a few moments before he asks how she's feeling.

She looks at her glass of wine that's in her hand before answering. "I'm fine. Curiosity settled?"

"I'm trying here." His plea is clear in his voice.

"Trying what, Sam? Go home to your girlfriend." She doesn't try to hide how bitter she sounds. It feels good, even if she never really wanted him to how much things have been bothering her.

"So being friends is out of the question, yeah?" His sarcastic tone pisses her off even more and she moves to shut the door on him. His foot stops her from succeeding.

"Alright, okay, I just wanted to talk." She breathes out slowly, opening the door again and leaning her head against it.

"What about? Because if I'm being honest, I don't want to talk to you right now."

He nods his head, pretending to know where she's coming from, or even understanding it genuinely. She tries not to imagine how this might have been had he not been seeing anyone when she came back. Dreaming about what if never got her anywhere.

He stares at her for a second. "You wanted me to wait, didn't you?"

She didn't hear any accusation in his voice, but she feels defensive anyway. So she spits out a "No" more forcefully then she should have.

"You know, Marlo and I, we're just having some fun. Or we were, I don't know. It felt nice, easy." He pauses. She doesn't let him get his thoughts together.

"Why are you telling me this?" She leaves the door open as she walks away, back over into her kitchen. She swallows down the rest of her glass and fills it up again for the third time.

He watches all of this before coming in, slowly, and shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move far from the door.

He rubs his eyes. "I've been thinking about last week. What you said in my truck before we went into the Penny." He stops again. She doesn't interrupt this time. If he wants to talk, maybe she should let him. Things can't get worse then they already are.

"I thought you made things clear six months ago, when you didn't show up for that drink. Maybe if I was someone else, I would have been waiting with flowers for you. But I'm not, and I didn't, because I got the message that you were done."

She opens her mouth to say refute that, again, but thinks better of it. She gives him a second, to see if he'll say anything else. He doesn't.

Softly, "I guess that's fair. I wish it wasn't, but if I put myself in your shoes, which isn't hard, I get it. I just -" She doesn't want to finish that. Tell him how pathetic she was imagining he was waiting for her. That when he found out she went under, he would understand. That he was as happy to see her that day in the warehouse as she had been to see him.

Her eyes narrow though as she thinks on what he's said. "Why are you confused about what you and Marlo are doing?"

He looks bemused for a moment before it seems to hit him. He doesn't look at he as he says, "You came back."

She snorts at this. Sceptical, "Really?"

He smirks at her, humourlessly. "It was easier to try and move on from you when you weren't around. Easier to tell myself it was okay when I thought you were done and over us."

"I don't - what do you want me to say?"

He shrugs. "Nothing, I guess. I figured I could keep lying to myself, keep trying something with Marlo. Or face the truth. Whatever that may be."

She glares at him now. "Are you kidding me? You want me to give you a reason to break up with her?"

He gapes at her. "What? No, that's not what I'm saying." He pinches the bridge of his nose. Takes a breath. "It's over with her, no matter what you say tonight. It's not fair to her and I had to realize that. I could have kept going, I could have kept trying. But I can't."

"Why?" He looks at her, giving nothing away. "Why, Sam?"

"Because you came back. Because I was wrong for all these months, and then some." He closes his eyes a moment. "I missed you, you know."

She shakes her head at him, her eyes burning. "Why do you have to do everything the hard way?"

He looks her in the eye, a little agitated. "Why do you?"

She deflates, puts her glass down and shifts over to sit on one of her kitchen stools.

"Should it be this hard? I know relationships take work, but look at us. It shouldn't be like this."

He finally moves away from her door, making his way over to her. He doesn't sit down, but he leans next to her, on the kitchen island.

"No," he sighs. "It shouldn't." He breathes in deeply through his nose. She stares at him, seeing how exhausted he looks. Quietly, "But I love you and I decided I don't want to forget that."

Giving in, she reaches out her hand to touch his cheek. She rubs her thumb under his left eye, wanting to smooth away the dark circle. His eyes close again, briefly, before he puts his hand over hers and moves it to press a kiss to her palm.

She feels a tear slip down her own cheek. "So that's - what now?"

"I don't know." He chuckles. She cuts in, "I have no idea." She rolls her eyes as she laughs with him.

He nods, smiling at her now. "Yeah. But we have a starting point."

"Hmm, what's that?" He straightens, keeping a hold of her hand and tugging her out of her seat.

"Wanna have a drink at the Penny?"

She smiles at him, nodding her head. His hand tightens around hers as she laces their fingers together.

"Or would you rather share a glass here?" She blushes a little, hoping he doesn't get the wrong idea.

"That sounds good too."

He lets go of her hand and he walks over to a cabinet to get himself a glass. He shoots her a look as he empties the wine bottle into his glass. She just grins at him.

He takes a drink as she watches him. She hesitates, but grabs her glass and takes a sip. Nervously, she puts it back down and pushes it away.

"I still love you, too." She looks down, not knowing why she feels a little embarrassed. "Just thought I'd put that out there as well."

He comes around and takes her hand again, "Then we have another starting point."

Not wanting to resist anymore, she surges up and quickly kisses him. He smiles down at her and wraps his arms around her in a hug. She wraps her arms around his back, burying her face in his neck. He presses a kiss to the side of her head.

She barely hears him say, "I'm sorry."

She whispers back, "Me too." She feels his head shake against hers.

He pulls back a little, moving his arms so that his hands could frame her face, mindful of the bruised jaw. "I think we got most of the big mistakes out of the way. We can do this."

She laughs lightly, "Well, you just jinxed us now."

* * *

It wouldn't end, so I forced a stop there! LOL Hope you enjoyed J


End file.
